Unattached
by Faeliya
Summary: We were alike in many ways. I probably would've never realized this if these sudden turn of events never happened. Watching his small retreating back—that fragile silhouette, stiff shoulder, and shivering form—I'm regretful of my decision that day. BelgiumxSpainxRomanoxNetherl ands
1. Netherlands I: The Letter

Genre: Angst/Drama/Romance

Pairings: Spain/Romano, Spain/Belgium, hints of Netherlands/Romano

Rating: M

Summary: We were alike in many ways. I probably would've never realized this if these sudden turn of events never happened. Watching his small retreating back—that fragile silhouette, stiff shoulder, and shivering form—I'm regretful of my decision that day. BelgiumxSpainxRomanoxNetherl ands

* * *

Netherlands I: The Letter

I stare at the invitation hidden under layers of other junk mail on my coffee table. The gold foil shines intensely under the lighting of the room. It glares, beckoning my attention. I frown and set my coffee down, reaching for the damn thing. Before reaching it though, I recoil from the sudden loud noise behind the front door, followed by curses. I stand up and tread towards the door, already knowing who it was once the invitation arrived in the mail this morning.

Romano is standing in the frigid cold with a thick coat on, scarf wrapped thickly around his neck, beanie slouching slightly to the side, and nose as red as the color of his scarf.

"Romano, what are you doing here?" I ask, ushering him inside.

The Italian ignores my question and takes off his boots, sliding his hat off along with his scarf and dropping them onto the floor of the foyer as he trudges slowly to the couch I was previously on. His sluggish movements make it seem as if the snow has taken shelter in my own home.

"Romano." I call out again, watching him flop down onto the plush couch.

"…Did you get it?" His voice is quiet and broken. A rhetorical question, one that he already knows the answer to, but asks anyways.

"Un." I grunt, seating myself on the armchair and crossing my arms.

Romano raises his head and looks at me. His eyes are cloudy and hazy and it looks as if he's drunk or maybe it's the tears that's threatening to fall. His gaze turns from weary to serious and then to an intense, burning one where it's the tears that are warm and fiery as they fall from his olive orbs.

"Roma—"

"I know!" The Italian yells, closing his eyes tightly and unleashing a new flood of trailing tears.

I watch him breathe heavily and deeply. His body heaves controllably, trembling with each breath taken. I am uncertain of how to comfort him so I remain silent, watching the flames in the fireplace dance lively.

Comforting was never my forte, and most likely never will be. However, I feel like I owe him at least this much, if not more, after what my sister has put him through. For now, all I can do is listen and calm the emotionally unstable male.

Romano finally looks up again, face drenched in tears. He sniffs softly and I can see tears still threatening to overflow. I quickly hand him a tissue so he can tidy himself up. He snatches the soft, white sheet and covers his face with it, changing his position so that he is now laying down on his back.

Silence fills the room once again, except for the occasional crackle of fire and splintering wood coming from the fireplace as well as Romano's deep breaths. The atmosphere is quiet, but tense and makes me as stiff as the armchair I'm sitting on.

"…That tomato-bastard… After all the trouble I went through to fuckin' tell him… _That_… This is his stupid decision?"

I turn to appraise the Italian as soon as his voice filters through the room. He's still laying down with the tissue covering his face and hands placed on top of one another on his stomach.

"Hn." I snort.

Antonio has always been overly oblivious and stupid, but right now he was being a complete jerk. Romano had gathered the strength and courage to confront his first love just yesterday—whatever it is they talked about, I'm not sure—and now, less than 24 hours later, he and Bella have sent out wedding invitations. And to Romano of all people too.

Don't those two know about the older Italian's feelings? Do they have no consciousness about their actions and what it would do to the love-struck fool? Exasperated, I sigh and my head drops to rest in my hands which are propped on my knees.

"I… I at least thought he would take the fuckin' time to _think_ about what I said…" Romano murmured.

"You know… You don't _have_ to go if you don't want to…" I mutter, lifting my head up to look at the Italian again.

Romano sits up and turns to glare at me. His gaze is intensely angry and his trademark scowl is deeper than usual.

"I'm fuckin' going! …I mean… Fuck, why did they even invite me anyways?!" Romano cursed his feet planting themselves on the floor as he leans his body forward with his hands coming to rest on nape of his neck.

I silently agree with the Italian, why did my sister and the Spainard invite Romano? It would only bring more pain to the Italian if he went and draw attention to him if he didn't attend either. Somehow it seemed as if they _wanted_ him to suffer.

* * *

After venting for hours on end, Romano exhausted himself and fell into a deep slumber. Although I listened to the Italian, never once did I give him any satisfactory answer or feedback that he needed. Somehow that made me feel guilty. I stare at Romano and my eyes linger on his pale face to his plump lips.

Noticing my strange attraction to the younger man I blink furiously and avert my gaze to the fireplace once again. The color of the fire reminds me of the scarf I saw the Italian wear earlier and soon I'm making my way back to the foyer where the beanie and scarf lay forgotten. I pick the items up and set them on the nearby table.

I return to the living room, intent on cleaning up the wad of tissues and scattered papers from Romano's previous fit of anger. As I collect the fallen papers, my gaze slowly returns to the Italian sleeping on the couch. I cautiously approach him with slow, calculated steps.

Romano is breathing softly and quietly, his chest ascending and descending in a soft crescendo. My hand reaches out to brush some of the Italian's stray locks obscuring his face. Accidentally, I brush against his erogenous lock and the man flinches and turns on his side, away from me, but remains asleep nonetheless.

Snapping out of my stupor moment, I return to tiding up the room. After accomplishing my task, I sit back down my the armchair I previously occupied and lean back, ruffling the front of my hair and pulling out my pack of cigarettes. Pulling out a stick, I place it between my lips and light it, inhaling deeply and then slowly exhaling.

It's been a long day, I admit. Looking at the clock situated on the wall across from me, I realize it's rather late now and sending Romano back at this hour, in this weather, I couldn't. Standing up once I again, I make my way towards the closet on the upper floor to grab a blanket for Romano.

When I return, Romano is nowhere to be seen and I swear, the surprise is enough for the cigarette to slip from my lips and onto the floor.

"Shit." I curse loudly, dropping the blanket to quickly grab the stub before it burnt the carpet.

I hear small laughter from the kitchen and turn towards the source. Romano is sitting on one of the many stools situated around the counter while sipping on a glass of… water? At least that's what I hope it is.

"I thought you were knocked out for the night." I snorted as I rose from my previous position and draping the blanket over the couch.

"Mmmm… I was… But some fuckin' loud giant had to go stomp around the house that I couldn't sleep." Romano replies, his words soft and sarcastic.

I grunt in reply and enter the kitchen, tossing the useless cigarette in the trash as I passed it. Opening the fridge, I pour myself a cup of water too.

Another silence falls over us again and it's getting a bit suffocating. I gulp the liquid down and bring the glass down on the table, albeit too loudly that it startles Romano, making him jump in his seat. He seemed to be lost in thought, I realize.

"Shit, don't scare me like that!" Romano exclaims, eyes a bit wide and he looks frazzled and irritated.

I mutter an apology and look down at the empty glass still in my grasp. I'm not sure what I should do to clear this silence, or how to act period when around Romano. The man seems content with the silence that haunts over us, but sometimes that silence is so strangulating at times.

"Abel… Thanks for… Uhh… You know… Letting me stay and… Vent…"

I look up and the Italian is staring at me with a thankful gaze and somehow it warms my heart. I nod in return and give him a toothy grin before returning my gaze to my empty cup.

"Really… I mean it… Thanks." Roman repeats, his gaze falling to his cup too.

I don't look up again. I can't. Somehow if I did, I know those olives eyes would melt me or do strange things to me that I couldn't deny made me feel a bit giddy and hysterical.

A sudden fit of knocks that sound like they'll break down the door any moment resound throughout the silence and I look over at the door, my brows scrunching. Who could it be at this hour? From the corner of my eye, I see Romano turn to stare at the door too. The same thoughts most likely running through his head at the moment.

"Brother! I know you're there! Open up!~" A familiar feminine voice chimes.

I see Romano stiffen and freeze as my eyes grow wide. Recovering quickly from my shock, I stride towards Romano and grab his shoulders. The Italian doesn't seem to notice our proximity, still in shock himself. I guide him to my study located near the living room and sit him in one of the armchairs in the room.

"Romano. Just… Stay here. I'll try and get them out."

I stare at the older Italian. It doesn't seem like he heard. Hesitantly, I brush my hand over his cheek. The gesture is enough to snap Romano out of his state of surprise. The Italian acknowledges me by scowling. It seems he heard me, and I smile slightly at that.

Rising from my squatted position, I leave Romano in my study to attend to my unexpected guest. As I flung the door open, I am stunned to see a fidgeting Antonio accompanying my sister.

"What the hell is this guy doing here?" I snarl, point an accusing finger at him.

"Oh brother, what are you saying? He's my _fiancé_." Bella replies, her hand grasping her future husband's hand and nearly dragging him inside, passing a stunned me.

I snap out of my surprise once again and glare at the Spainard. The nerve this guy has! To ignorantly ignore Romano's confession, marry my sister, _and_ enter my home!

"Uh… Bueno—" Antonio begins, but I cut him off before he can even finish

"Don't use that language in my home!" I snarl, towering over him before shoving past him.

"Brother! That was a bit rude!" I hear my sister reprimand.

I ignore her remark and proceed quickly and casually swipe the glass on the counter. My actions go unnoticed as the pair are too busy fussing over each other. I slip the cup into the sink and proceed to put the jug of water I previously took out back into the fridge.

It seems the two lovebirds are too occupied staring at one another to care about my actions and somehow that irks me. Slamming my palms down on the island, I garner their attention and glare at both of them.

"If you want to _affectionately_ stare at one another, do it somewhere else." I growl, nearly gagging when the two turn to flirtatiously smile at one another. Antonio even had the nerve to _wink_.

"Oh brother, you're too overprotective!~" Bella exclaims, and I swear, I've never been pissed at her until this very moment.

"Get the fuck out of my house if you're going to play lovers in _my_ house!" I yell, pointing to the front door with an enraged expression.

"Geeze, what's stuck up your ass, Abel?" Bella replies.

I narrow my eyes at my sister. She never calls my name, ever. Only when she's annoyed or wants something her way. I'm not playing along with her, not after having done so with Romano.

"If you're not leaving, I'll drag both your asses back into the cold." I threaten, my glare intensifying.

Bella does not seem to like my attitude and she returns my glare with her own. Antonio, unsure of what to do, stupidly smiles stiffly tells us both to calm down. I snap.

"OUT! OUT!" I bellow, eyes furious and enraged.

Bella seems a bit taken aback by my sudden outburst and prepares to reprimand me, but I won't put up with her, not today, not tonight, and maybe forever. I shove the two towards the front door, throwing them out into the cold as I toss them their shoes, forgetting their jackets, which I could careless if they freeze, and slamming the door in their face.

I can hear insistent knocking, probably from my sister, but I ignore it. Turning around, ready to just head to bed, I'm met face-to-face with Romano. The Italian has a stern and hardy look on his face.

"Why did you do that?" Romano questions me, his glare deadly.

I shift from one foot to another, unsure of how to answer. Should I tell him I did it for him? That I'm taking his side instead of my sisters? Hell! That seems like a stupid response!

Before I can even answer, Romano is already speaking, "Open it."

"Why?" I ask.

"You didn't mean it… I know you fuckin' didn't mean it. Your stupid face says it all." Romano answers, continuing to glare at me.

I'm a bit taken aback and my hand rises to cup my chin. Was I that obvious?

"You don't have to fuckin' side with me. I know you care about your sister… A lot. I hate pity too. I don't need stupid shit like that." Romano continues as my silence drags on.

"I already knew what your decision was when I came here. I didn't expect anything, so… So… I'll be in the damn study…" Romano trails off, somehow losing his will to continue talking.

The Italian turns around to return to the study room. I reach out for him, but the incoherent shouts from behind the front door freeze my movements. I watch as Romano grabs the blanket I draped earlier and wrap it around himself, proceeding to the study room as he said.

As soon as I hear the click of the study room's door. I turn around and open the front door, glaring at the two figures still standing on my porch. I gesture them with my thumb to hurry inside before I shut the door in their faces and they swiftly enter my home again.

I stare at the study room for awhile when I enter the living room. Guilt. Romano was going to sleep on the cold, hard surface of the study room until these two idiots left. Somehow, it made me feel overly conscious and regretful.

* * *

A/N: There's probably a lot of things that don't make sense right now. But it'll all fall into pieces as everyone's perspective is covered. :)


	2. Spain I: The Tipping Point

Genre: Angst/Drama/Romance

Pairings: Spain/Romano, Spain/Belgium, hints of Netherlands/Romano

Rating: M

Summary: We were alike in many ways. I probably would've never realized this if these sudden turn of events never happened. Watching his small retreating back—that fragile silhouette, stiff shoulder, and shivering form—I'm regretful of my decision that day. BelgiumxSpainxRomanoxNetherl ands

* * *

Spain I : The Tipping Point

Sometimes when it was just me occupying this desolate house, no Roma or Bella, just the eerie silence and my steady breathing, I was struck with this sudden loneliness and emptiness so deep that it ached my heart. Even when I breathed, it was so excruciating that the tears just somehow flowed from my eyes and seeped into every crevice of my home.

So it was no surprise when Bella showed up, exclaiming that she was just dropping by, that I ended up hugging and clinging on to her for dear life. I never questioned her actions that day and neither did she mine. However, even as she kept me company my heart continued to race and pound in my ears. I felt as if my head was simply going to split open any moment, and I'm still feeling that insecurity haunting me, eating slowly at my insides, and have always wondered what it ever implied?

* * *

It was not until one weekend, when Francis and Glibert invited me to have a drink, that I had finally asked them, someone, about this sudden angst.

"Why, mon ami, you're longing for someone!~" Francis had told me, solving my issues in a blink.

Gilbert snickered at Francis' diagnosis, and somehow that action angered me. However, I kept my cool and quickly asked the french for an explanation.

"Porquoi~ I _am_ the expert when it comes to love! Your symptoms are all signs of distant love~" Francis exclaimed, sipping his champagne ever so elegantly in his 'france's ways.'

"D-distant love?" I repeated, testing the words on my lips. Somehow this rendezvous proved to be useless, especially with where the inquiry would soon be headed.

"So, Toni, who's the lucky guy?" Gilbert questioned, grinning wickedly at me, as if he already knew the answer.

"W-well… Bella?" I muttered, twiddling my index fingers as I averted my gaze to the floor.

Gilbert choked on his beer as did Francis with his champagne. I stared at their sudden blunder and wondered to myself if I had guess wrong. However, their violent reactions must had been due to my brilliant accuracy in guessing the glorious woman that had won my heart. My stiff smile began to widen and I flashed my friends a bright smile before patting on their backs to help ease their struggles.

"Hahaha! I kinda figured it was her since my heart continue to race wildly and I just always felt like passing out!" I laughed, scratching the back of my head to alleviate whatever it was that was gathering around the atmosphere.

"T-To—" Francis attempted to speak, but was interrupted with a loud belching noise from Prussia.

I turned towards Gilbert in favor of assisting him in someway, however, as I neared him my shirt was suddenly grabbed by a pale hand. That very hand yanked me down to eye level with its owner and Gilbert glared intensely at me. In retaliation, I held my hands up as if to make peace. Gilbert ignored my stance and moved his face forwards in front of my own.

"Gil… You smell." I exclaimed, turning my head away to avoid that pungent smell.

"Toni… You id-!" And Gilbert was sent heaving once again before finishing his sentence.

I scrambled quickly to put some distance between the albino and me, just to make sure I would not become a waste bin for whatever sat in the German's stomach. Francis and I watched Gilbert retch his breakfast, lunch, and beers onto the floors for a few moments before Francis sighed heavily as he bent down to help the poor guy.

"Mon ami, we shall talk about this later." Francis said to me, as he supported Gilbert by swinging one of the German's arm around his should to steady the guy.

I nodded numbly in reply, somehow glued to my spot as I watch my best friends depart towards the bathroom. Even after their departure, I continued to stand there with eyes glued to where Gilbert previously sat.

'What was that all about…?'

* * *

Throughout the rest of that week, my thoughts kept straying from its task to Bella—sweet, pretty, Bella. I knew Bella for a long time, we could had been considered childhood friends to some extent. Her mother, along with herself, used to work as a maid for mi mansión de familia. However, after her father's trade expanded to Belgium, their family moved to the said country.

She had kept in touch with me through letters after her departure though, always writing to me at least once a month, if not more. I replied back to her letters as soon as I had received them and even kept many of them in a box stored somewhere in my bedroom closet. There was a time though, if I recalled correctly, that I received a sudden death threat from her scrawled menacingly and etched so deep into the paper that I feared for my sanity and safety. However, another letter was sent swiftly after that previous one, explaining her brother's intervention and protectiveness and how she was sincerely apologetic towards any trouble it caused me.

Abel, I never met him when I was younger or heard about him until Bella told me about him in one of her later letters, however, when I first picked up that letter he had sent to scare me—I knew we would not get along.

* * *

A/N: I don't know if anyone of you all have ever read the book _The Tipping Point: How Little Things Can Make a Big Difference_, but this chapter title was inspired from all the the little inspirational tidbits from that book. :)

**Next:** Belgium I: The Crush


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